


The Masks That Are Put Upon Us

by RemainingQuestions



Series: Vexbo [1]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:14:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22563844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RemainingQuestions/pseuds/RemainingQuestions
Summary: It was just a joke.They didn't know.Don't play with magical artifacts kids, especially notbrokenones.
Series: Vexbo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623517
Comments: 11
Kudos: 77





	The Masks That Are Put Upon Us

A cracked from eye to corner of mouth. Clear and evident. 

Neither Cub nor Scar had ever seen a Vex mask damaged, let alone this badly. 

The magic was the only reason it was still whole. The magic poured off it, more so even than the whole ones Cub and Scar were wearing. 

It was an easy decision to bury the cursed thing. Even the Vex agreed with that call. 

Grian was digging, flattening the hill further, while Mumbo fiddled with redstone. The night was easy, relaxed. 

A tune played on the jukebox and jokes were swapped. 

“Hey Mumbo!” Grian called out, the languid nature of the night affecting even his enthusiasm. “Mumbo look what I found!” In his hands was a blue thing, and Mumbo jumped down to his level. 

“A Vex mask?” Mumbo looked it over as Grian finally held it still. It seemed to have a bad crack in it, but it was still clearly recognisable. 

“Uhu, just found it buried. Guess they aren't so environmentally friendly as they pretend,” Grian stuck out his tongue in the general direction of the dead coral shop, remembering the minor industrial sabotage that didn't quite go to plan. 

Mumbo turned to go back to his redstone now that the odd find was shown but Grian grabbed his shoulder. “No wait we can have fun with this, come on.” The last part could be, if Mumbo was feeling less friendly, considered a whine. 

“It's an odd find, but it's just a mask.” 

“Awh come on,” Grian shifted and held the mask in front of his face like a lady with a fan. One eye peeked through an eye hole and the other peeked over it. “Hurh blurh, I'm Cub and I bury my trash, hurh blurh.” 

“Really?” Grian was giggling, going back to waving it about. “That's really what you're going with here?” 

Grian pouted, “well you do it then, Mister Mumbo the Hilarious.” He waved the mask at Mumbo, and for a second he wondered how it even stayed together. 

“Oh, fine,” he smiled, and took the mask over from Grian. The moment his fingers touched it, he shuddered, some sparks dancing over his arms. But he just imagined it, surely. Just the tall tales that Cub and Scar liked to tell getting to him. “Okay, uh,” he moved the mask this way and that before realising how one would wear it, “okay.” He put the mask on. 

It took a second the realise the laughter was coming from  _ him _ , not anyone else. 

High-pitched and near maniacal. He felt it, now that he knew it was  _ him _ . Felt the power of it, the chaos of it, the sheer  _ thrill _ of it all. 

What did it matter that his vision was slightly blue, now. Slightly fuzzy, now. 

The laughter continued to bubble up and pop as he reached up a hand to touch his new face. His fingers touched the tearstreak-like crack and this time he was certain that there were sparks of pure magic between it and him. 

He turned, looked to his friend. Friend? He wasn’t like Mumbo was, now. Was he looking scared? Why would he look scared? The thought ripped more laughter from Mumbo’s chest. Everything would be just fine. Everything would be cake and chaos now. Just. Fine. 

His internal voice whispered pranks and power to him. 

He could do it all. 

He laughed, and laughed and laughed and laughed. 

There was no cake here, which was really quite very sad. 

But there was so much potential for pranks!

The entire shopping district so close by! 

Sure, the Vex had pranked that before, but not  _ him _ , and didn’t he deserve a slice of that  pie cake too? He laughed at his own metaphor, no longer paying any attention to his foolishly human pal. 

He heard rockets fire, and really, he should’ve gotten on that train far sooner. Here he was, wasting time cackling when he could be  _ pranking _ . He took to the skies easily, and was it just him, or was the smoke from his rockets tinted blue, too? 

He was above the Sahara sign, a great place for a prank, when an arrow thudded into his shoulder. He swayed, and suddenly the air felt a lot thicker, a lot harder to move through.

Another arrow thudded into him, and he felt the strength in his fingers fail. 

He laughed as he turned to see who would dare challenge  _ him _ . 

But of course. 

The other Vex. Their masks still were pristine, weren’t they? 

But just because his was cracked he’d been tossed aside and buried. 

He laughed as he felt his magic course over his arms, down into his fingertips. The potions would wear off soon, those two had to know that. 

“Take it off Mumbo!” 

“You don’t know what you’re dealing with!” 

He just laughed, and looked for the weapons in his inventory. If it was a fight they wanted, why not have a little  _ fun _ ? Shame, no bow, but the sword would do. 

They’d have to come close, eventually. 

Below, someone yelled. It didn’t matter who it was or what they said. This was Vex against Vex, now. The ranged cowards, with their perfect pretty faces would have to come to him eventually. And he would be ready. 

He didn’t fumble with another rocket, simply glided down the the gray mass of the Sahara sign. 

They followed suit, side by side, and wasn’t that just  _ cute _ . 

The tip of his diamond sword slid on the concrete, sparks of wild Vex magic twisting on the blade. 

“Mumbo, please!” 

The other was smarter, or perhaps more ruthless. Either way, he prepared another arrow, this one dripping with something just like the other two. “We don’t want to hurt you Mumbo.” Or maybe this one was just as foolish. 

He laughed. ‘Mumbo’, oh how funny. He moved closer, ignoring how he swayed, ignoring how the Vex magic was making his arms shiver alongside the tingle. This was power. Pure, unrestrained power. 

The arrow hit him as he rose his sword, but he finished his swing, blocked by the other one. 

One behind him now, one in front. 

The one in front looked nervous, but he had his sword ready. 

Mumbo slashed at him and dashed to the side, turned. 

He wouldn’t be outmaneuvered by two plain contained Vex, not he. No, his power was flowing far too freely for that. 

They didn’t talk, and for a moment he missed that connection. But then they moved, far faster than he could, with the potions still stuck in his veins, and the fight was back on. 

Sword hit sword, but the other had moved behind him again. He twisted, slowed, but by the time he had turned the other had slammed his heel into his knees and he buckled down. 

He twisted again, trying to get a slash in behind him, but his sword arm was grabbed by the Vex in front of him. 

He snarled now, laughter forgotten. How  _ dare _ they, after discarding him like cheap trash,  _ him _ the one mask that broke the limits, buried and  _ forgotten _ and now he finally could be free again, they hunted him again. 

The one behind him had taking his other arm, and put a knee on his back, holding him down. 

He struggled as the one in front gave his swordarm to the one behind him, and from the distinct wheeze, he at least hit something before he was incapacitated again. 

“Sorry Mumbo.” The one behind him whispered, changing his hold again, but no matter how much he struggled he couldn’t get free. 

A hand grasped his hair, pulled his face back, and he snarled again. Couldn’t they see? Couldn’t they  _ feel _ ? Didn’t they realise he was the better version of them? 

“I’m so sorry,” the one in front whispered, his face hidden by his hat as he looked down. “But this is really for the best.” He looked back up, white eyes to white eyes, and there was another pristine mask in his hand. With his other hand, he reached up. 

His fingers found the edge where mask became skin, and nails dug in. He screamed, pure pain and agony as his face was ripped off of his face. 

For a second, his mind was whirling and he was shaking, but then another mask fit into place. “I’m so sorry Mumbo.” 

Mumbo blinked up at Scar as Cub let his arms go. His head felt… empty. 

His limbs felt tired. 

He wanted cake. 

“Come on Mumbo.” Cub said, pulling him up, holding him steady as he stumbled. “Come to Concorp with us.” 

Mumbo shivered, cold and exhausted, and looked to the ground. To Grian. He stood there, shocked and scared. Iskall flew in, and had it only been so short that Iskall hadn’t arrived yet? 

It had felt like he’d been under that mask for weeks. 

And now he was under another. 

The thrill of power was still there, but it was contained, controllable. 

He still felt like himself. 

He stumbled again, and Cub and Scar held him firmly in between them as they flew over to Concorp. 

The security of the gates was on, but the Evoker ignored them all. He thought it was a ruse, before, but it seems that like the magic, Scar and Cub had told a lot more truths than he thought. Than anyone thought, he suspected. 

Scar held the door open to one of their warehouses as Cub supported him, and the sweet smell of cake was the first thing he noticed. He stumbled out of Cub’s grip, who let him go, and immediately ate some of that delicious sweet goodness. 

His legs trembled, and he sank down, still within reach of the cake. 

“Eat up Mumbo, it really does help.” Scar said, sitting down next to him and nibbling on his own slice. 

After another slice, Mumbo felt like he could trust his voice again. “What… what happened?”

Cub shook his head and sat down on the floor too. “You put on a broken Vex mask.” He scratched at his chin, “why did you do that, Mumbo?” 

“I… Grian found it, we were…” He thought back, his hollow mind fuzzy. “We were uh, joking.” The intent had been to mock Concorp, but it  _ had _ all been a joke. 

“You can try taking it off now, if you think you can.” Scar gestured to his mask. “I knew we should’ve thrown it in lava or something but… it’s still a Vex mask.” His fingers traced the eye socket, gently wandered down the crack. 

“You’ll likely feel exhausted as soon as you take it off, so ask what you want to know before then.” 

“Right, uhm,” he looked from Cub to Scar and back again. “Why…”

“You’ll have to get more specific than that, Mumbo.” Despite it all, there was a smile in Scar’s voice. 

He scratched his head. “Okay, well, why didn’t I. When that other mask. You said my name, right?” It was starting to get hazy, like a story someone else told you days ago. 

Scar nodded, “you didn’t respond because this mask is  _ broken _ ,” magic crackled in the air, and Scar hissed at it, “you  _ are _ , and this is just proof.” He sighed, “normally, the masks give some power, some impulse. This one. This one just  _ took over _ .” 

Mumbo blinked, and felt himself slide down. He ate another piece of cake as his mind tried to combine the few loose thoughts in his head into actual useful questions. 

Cub stood up and felt his forehead, still covered by delicate porcelain, and his neck. Took his pulse from a tired wrist. “Maybe just sleep would be best, after all.” 

“Huh?” Mumbo felt his head fall down, but he got it back up again. “I still… I have questions still, I think?” 

“Mumbo, can you take your mask off?” Cub’s voice was gentle, and his hand was cold against his neck. 

“Yeah, of course.” His hands stayed where they were. He was just tired, he just wanted to feel this buzzing power a little longer. 

“Mumbo. Take the mask off.” Cub’s voice was close, and insistent. When had he closed his eyes? 

He opened his eyes, and Cub was close, mask still firmly over his face. “In a sec, just…” He waved his head, waved away their worries. 

“No, Mumbo. Take the mask off.” Cub squeezed his neck gently as he closed his eyes again. “Take it off  _ right now _ .” There was a power in that demand, a power that buzzed through him now, too. 

His hand stopped waving about, and found the edges of mask and skin. He took a breath, remembered the agonising pain that it had been, before. The seal broke, and the mask was removed. Like opening a fridge. “Oh.” And now he felt like a fridge had fallen on top of him. “Woah.” 

“Good lad, Mumbo.” The hand on his neck transferred to his head, ruffling his hair. “Come on, into bed with you.”

Cub put a hand under his shoulder, and Scar was on the other side of him. He tried to stand up, but his legs were as sturdy as boiled spaghetti. He stumbled, and the two men alongside him caught him. “Oh, oh my word.” Was this how it felt for them every time? 

“I know Mumbo, come on, just a little way to bed.” Scar’s voice was soft and gentle even as he held Mumbo up. 

The three of them stumbled out the door and to the other room, where a bed stood. 

It wasn’t subtle or gentle the way that Mumbo fell face down into the bed. But he didn’t care about that. He fell into the bed, and fell asleep. In the last moments before sleep, he felt someone take off his shoes. 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [vEX.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19381699) by [sprucewoodcottage (ironmermaidens)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironmermaidens/pseuds/sprucewoodcottage)




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